


When Tomorrow Comes

by luthorslena



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Guns, Holding Hands, Post-Finale, Soft Shoot, in other words: a fix it fic, naps, what's a plot? - Freeform, y'all tired of these yet?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 20:57:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luthorslena/pseuds/luthorslena
Summary: Prompt: Maybe something post show (Root is alive) and how she has to settle back into her life. Nothing too sad, but it would be nice to see her building relationships with Fusco and Root, like some nice domestic stuff. Also, guns and punching if you'd like.





	When Tomorrow Comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SloanGreyMercyDeath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SloanGreyMercyDeath/gifts).



> WARNING: root is very much alive, but in a short part of the fic, it's left unclear whether or not shaw knows that. so if that's a trigger for you, don't read / read with caution!

When Shaw gets back, she doesn't. Her eyes are hollow and dead, her skin pale, her hair long. She remembers her mom always telling her to grow it out. Or does she?

When Shaw gets back, Root is not the same. In the simulations (the ones before this one), she was needy and affectionate, clingy you could say, always the one to start the conversation, to inch closer, to make innuendos. This time, she's careful, distant, almost sterile. Like she doesn't want to overwhelm Shaw. Or like she's scared the gun with no safety might go off.

Either way, Shaw isn't Shaw. She's a body that can walk and talk and get out of bed. She has a body that, except for the slight dizziness in her head and the ringing in her ear that occurs when she stands up in the morning or when she sees an elevator, functions reasonably well. She is a dead woman living in the body of a 36 year old, a reanimated corpse, a gun with no safety. She's nobody - and if she were a body, she'd want to change that as soon as possible.

* * *

"How are you today, Ms. Shaw?" Finch asks on the first morning. 

It's an average day; John is dealing with the number, Root is getting dressed in her bedroom, and Finch is sitting by his computer, sipping on his sencha tea. It's an average day. Nothing out of the ordinary.

While she'd been gone, time had been frozen, and yet she's missed so much.

"I don't know", Shaw thinks, but doesn't reply, leaving the question hanging in the air.

How is she today? Who is she today? Who was she yesterday? Who will she be tomorrow? 

She doesn't know. Who does?

* * *

The day Shaw returns is the day Root does. They're sitting on a couch, waiting on Samaritan's agents to show up to the party, and suddenly, they're holding hands. (Root and Shaw, not Samaritan's agents.)

"I've been hiding since I was 12… This is the first time I feel like I belong," Root tells her. It seems genuine, Shaw thinks.

No, it is genuine.

In the simulations, it was about exploiting Shaw, making her vulnerabilities come to light. Now, it's Root who's allowing herself to be vulnerable and she's allowing Shaw to see it.

There's a click and a bang and the ringing in Shaw's ears stops and everything goes silent. Was it her? Did the gun with no safety finally go off? Did the bullet hit Root?

But no. They're still holding hands and Root is still looking at her. Shaw looks back. 

Their fingers intertwine for a second and Shaw feels like a somebody again.

* * *

Root leaves for a while after that. Shaw thinks the gun might have lost its safety, or maybe it had never even existed in the first place. She takes Bear on walks whenever she can, eats dinner at trashy take-out places with Fusco four days of the week, and kills people, sometimes.

She does feel alive, like a somebody, but there's an ever-present, almost inaudible ringing in her ear again that makes her dizzy when she thinks about it too much. Maybe her gun was a little too close to her head when she killed Blackwell.

* * *

They hold hands a lot, after Root returns. On the couch watching The L Word, in the park with Bear, under the table when out for dinner with Fusco. It's become their way of subtly showing trust and care - among many, many other ways, that are not as subtle.

* * *

Shaw's still not exactly sure about the safety, but as the saying goes, it's the time that heals wounds. She wonders how much time it would take to take care of the hole in Root's chest that she'd put there. Her ear is buzzing, not loudly but it's there.

When Bear is running around with his playdate, Shaw intertwines Root's fingers with hers. They make a good source of heat during New York winter, Shaw finds.

* * *

Root talks a lot during the day, but she talks even more in the dark of the night. After a day of taking walks and eating out and shooting people, they lay in bed, and Root talks, and Shaw listens. Root tells her about her childhood, her friend Hanna and how she'd wanted to get to Oregon, how Root's interest in computers developed. They reflect on The Machine and on the first time they'd met, and what they were thinking when they saw each other in the hotel room. It's Root who reflects, mostly. Telling stories about herself that Shaw had had no idea of, that not even the craziest AI with the widest range of connections and data could make up. 

Shaw especially likes the story of how Root was thinking about taking on the name "Algernon". When Shaw says it would be fitting, Root laughs for a very long time after that.

* * *

"Good to see y'all like this", Fusco says one evening between two huge bites of his cheeseburger.

"Like what?" Shaw asks, chewing on her steak. 

"Y'know." Fusco gestures in the air, his fingertips covered in grease and mayonnaise. Shaw scrunches her nose. "Happy."

After a short pause, Root responds with "Thank you, Lionel" and they leave it at that. They continue chattering about the newest number while munching away at their meal. They leave a generous tip when they're finished and head home; Lionel to Lee, because he has him for the weekend (they're planning to play football together), Shaw and Root to Bear, who is already asleep. 

"I'm happy. Happy to be a somebody." Shaw announces on the way to their apartment.

"I'm happy you're a somebody too."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Life goes on, even after you've been abducted and tortured by agents working for an immoral AI, Shaw finds. She cleans her dusty gym gear that had been abandoned in the back of her closet, along with her weapons and most of her clothes.

"This shirt I stole off a dead body back in San Jose. Needed something to cover the hole in my shoulder, since that's not socially acceptable, or whatever," Shaw explains.

"It looks good on you," Root answers.

"You've lost even the smallest bit of subtlety that was ever there, haven't you?"

"I can be very subtle when I want to, Sameen." She winks awkwardly.

"Yeah, sure Root," Shaw replies jokingly. "Maybe in your dreams."

* * *

The numbers go on too.

It's not the same without Reese and there is a loud buzzing in Shaw's ears when she thinks about it too much, so she doesn't.

* * *

When the criminals of New York are laying low (or taking a day off as well), Root and Shaw like to sleep.

The times neither of them are plagued by nightmares are rare ones, but they make the most of them. At times like that, they'll likely doze off on the couch, laying all across each other. Bear joins them too, sometimes.

Root snores and drools and turns and it has taken Shaw patience and self-control to not freak. She's grown to like - well, not dislike - it over time though. It's comforting. Even when she's half asleep, she can tell whether Root is there or not, not by the cold space beside her or by the unoccupied pillow, but by the buzzing in her ears. The sound is different from the others, more silent, yet harder to ignore. It's almost inaudible, not to be heard unless specifically listened to. 

Root doesn't expect her to. But Shaw listens.

* * *

She's alive and she's a somebody, but she's still a gun. It has a new safety, though, which is pretty neat. It's not so bad after all, Shaw finds. In fact, being a gun is pretty endurable, if you know who it is you're shooting.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my friend and beta ThisPolarNoise, whose kind comments make my day. <3  
> the title refers to the song "when tomorrow comes" by eurythmics - listen to it if you want, i think it's a nice song. ^^


End file.
